Songbirds and Strawberry Jam
by Aldara-Nerita
Summary: Given strength to stand and value anew, with love and kindness offered by few. Such wonderful words that have been spoken, but it's hard to fly when your wings are broken.


Anime Detour 2011

Fanfiction Contest Entry

Awarded 3rd Place

**Eureka Seven** and related characters are owned by Bones. Please support the official english release by visiting our heroes at Bandai Entertainment's website!

The relationship between Anemone and Dominic doesn't really make much sense, but for some reason they have become one of my favorite anime couples. I adore these two characters incredibly, particularly everyone's favorite pink-haired, mecha-driving, dessert loving maniac. The story of Eureka Seven captivated me, so I'm glad an idea struck me to write for it. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Songbirds and Strawberry Jam<p>

"_Little girl, little girl why are you crying?_

_Inside your restless soul your heart is dying." _

"Viva la Gloria? (Little Girl)" by Green Day

The blue sky was so vast and immense, it amazed me every time. The emptiness, the mystery to which it stretched to, upward for eternity and beyond the horizons, was invigorating, frightening and comforting all at the same time. The aqua colors and winds cradled me, but a desire to explore the unknown made me want to stay up and dance with my partner all day.

But of course, I could never do so. I never got to come out here for fun. If I got the chance to dance, it was only by command. How lame...

[Anemone, how is theEND holding up with the modifications?]

The monotone voice over the mic interrupted my thoughts, causing me to furrow my brow in agitation. Just let me and my partner enjoy ourselves.

"theEND is just fine." I spat. Maybe the person on the other line would stop talking and let me be. After all, I didn't want to hear their voice. I wanted to hear _his,_ to tell him how much fun it is to soar like a skyfish in this endless expanse. And to show him how beautiful my dance was, that no matter what he asked of me, I could change the rhythm with no hesitation.

But I hadn't seen the Colonel in many days. I can't recall the last time I was able to hang onto his arm, to sit comfortably under the shine of his command. I was his favorite; I knew it! But I didn't understand...why did he have to leave me behind?

[Anemone?]

"What?" I shouted aloud, coming back from my thoughts.

[You can return to the ship now. The test data has been successfully recorded.] The voice wasn't deterred by my fury. Fine. If you won't allow me to have a little fun, then I'll entertain myself.

Instead of following the voice, I decided to take a little detour. Sensing my change in disposition, theEND shifted in earnest. The inner eyes of the cockpit swirled in their many sockets to view me, glowing mischievously. I grinned, copying their excitement.

"Let's go!"

Together we abruptly dipped downward, leaping off the gentle trapar wave under our feet. Plummeting towards the ground hundreds of feet below, we dashed back and forth, catching splashes of trapar that sent us veering into a spiral.

I was jerked around, theEND making its turns sharper than ever before. The modifications to the ref blades were magnificent. The trapar were harnessed all the further, the sensitivity with which they responded doubling at least. The clasps that kept my hands and legs bound tugged painfully with the sudden changes, but the thrill was so great it didn't even phase me. Sheer adrenaline was more than enough to sustain me.

My partner was happy, I could sense it. The ground was rushing madly upon us.

[Anemone! Anemone! Quit this craziness – theEND hasn't been completely tested for agility! We don't know how it'll respond to such quick maneuvers!]

I ignored the scolding. This was the best way to test theEND. Why didn't they understand that?

With the ground coming quickly, theEND dove into a narrow gorge amongst the cliffs. At the last second, I yanked upward with all my might, guiding theEND to lean to the right. Our legs came up from underneath, the blades attached grasping onto the trapar currents channeling through. We missed the ground by mere yards.

At first I thought it had gone perfectly, that we would speed through the canyon and make a grand exit as it flattened out, but the trapar weren't as smooth as I had anticipated. The blades dipped on a sudden lapse in energy, their tips sagging downward. The trapar picked up again almost immediately, latching onto the blades as our momentum carried us forward, and theEND was sent into a full-throttle forward launch head first.

The abrupt shock and change of direction wasn't expected, and theEND wasn't prepared. The mech shrieked in agony as it pitched forward, and I was pulled with it. Pain as lightning shot down my arms as theEND sought assistance from me to pull it up, and I screamed in fright. The narrow gorge suddenly turned, and we had no time to change before colliding head on with it, the wall forcing our motion sideways.

We continued a short distance of bashing into the sides of the valley, limbs snapping back, the blades shattering on contact with the rock walls. Each blow theEND experienced I felt too, the machine drawing efforts from myself as it tried desperately to correct the mistakes.

[Anemone!]

That annoying voice overcame all the racket and screams inside the cockpit, and then we both pitched forward one last time. Through theEND's eyes, I saw the ground race up to meet us, and then everything was black.

* * *

><p>The shrouding darkness of a closet was considerably different than the open expanse of sky. Gulliver pressed his little wet nose against my chin, cooing in his precious demands for attention. I had been sitting still for a few minutes, listening for anyone walking by.<p>

We had crashed miserably. I was more or less unhurt, except for my pride, but theEND was another story. It had been damaged to the point where the mechanics looked devastated and terrified. Not terrified of me...terrified of Dewey and what he would do when theEND's condition was reported.

So I ran. I was humiliated and ashamed. Like a frightened child, I ran away and hid inside a random closet I found in the hallway. A few military coats hung around my head, an empty shelf meant for shiny, black shoes a few feet above. I had brought Gulliver with me, much against his will while napping on my bed, to cuddle and hold. I sat still, angry with myself and both at the stupid mechanics that allowed that to happen to theEND. I had hurt it so, but I was too scared to go out an apologize for my recklessness for fear that Dewey would be standing there, looking upon the wreckage. And he would turn, his perfectly clean uniform, cape and hat shining mercilessly, and he would glare at me, or worse yet, shake his head in disappointment.

The silence continued on for a while. I hugged my pet closer, a confused purring coming from his throat.

_I should be braver. I am stronger than this._

"I think I'll go out now, Gulliver." I whispered softly. I could see his eyes, the big whites reflecting the small amount of light seeping in through the cracks at the bottom of the door. He cocked his head, watching me carefully.

Standing up slowly, I reached forward to gently slide the closet door aside. Peering out, the hallway on the military jet was completely empty of life. Spinning around, I set Gulliver down on the closet floor, pressing my pointer finger gently against his snout.

"Now you be good and stay here. After all, I don't want to get into any more trouble than I already am." He stared at me, whimpering as I shut the door quietly. Glancing down the hall both ways to make sure no one saw me talking to myself, I proceeded to walk aimlessly in a random direction.

Observing the motions of my red shoes going back and forth as I walked, my head began to go through the words that I would pick from to explain when I eventually ran into Dewey. Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed an open door, electric light streaming out from it, as I passed. Pausing to look up, I saw a young woman bent over a table, pen in hand, swiping smoothly across an envelope face.

Curious, I stopped and approached the door to peer inside. She was dressed as any other aviator on the jet. Her hair was pulled back in a tight, dark bun, her cap dust free and graciously cared for. The lady glanced up, gasping shallowly when she noticed me.

"Anemone! I didn't see you there. Please, come on in," she waved nervously. Much of the crew had grown nervous about my presence, but that didn't bother me. Besides, I was more curious as to what she was doing than how she reacted to seeing me.

"What are you writing?" I inquired instead, keeping my eyes on her hands.

"Oh, this? Nothing too important. I'm just writing to my mother." She looked down at her writing, lightly brushing the strokes that formed the name of the recipient. I cocked my head slightly at this.

"Writing to her? Why would you do that?" The woman smiled softly.

"I'm often too busy to call, and our hours are usually very different. I would hate to call at night. So I write every once in a while, and she sometimes is able to return a brief postcard. It's nice to see her handwriting, to know she's still whole and healthy enough to sit down and write something thoughtful."

I crossed my arms, frowning.

"That still didn't answer why you do it." The woman laughed gently.

"Oh, it may sound silly, but I'm still reliant on her encouragement and support." She looked back lovingly at her envelope, the letter carefully folded inside. I watched her face change, transitioning from nervousness to complete comfort and happiness. It was as if I wasn't there anymore.

"My mother loves to hear from me. She tends to over think and worry about things. This way, she knows I'm all right, and it's comforting to know she isn't losing sleep over me. It also gives me a reason to keep working hard, to do my best and stay strong, to know that someone out there is cheering for me."

I touched my lip, contemplating what the woman was saying to me. Her mother...gave her strength? Provided her with courage? But she never saw her, never spoke to her...

I opened my mouth to say something, but it was cut off by the PA system. That same monotone voice from the speakers overcame my intentions.

[Anemone, can you please report to the bridge? Anemone, Colonel Dewey is on the phone line for you. Please come immediately to the bridge.]

I bit my lip, pinching my dress and staring at my shoes. Looking up, I came eye to eye with the lady smiling back at me.

Finally I said, "So, you rely on encouragement from a person that isn't even here? You're dependent on a person you never see to support you?"

The woman shrugged slightly, sighing.

"I know it's not something physical, but it's the only thing I have that I can grab onto."

I was perplexed. How was that reasonable, to rely on something not even there? It didn't make sense, nor was it possible. I had only myself and theEND to rely on. We powered through everything by ourselves, because we had to.

But I do wish that Dewey...

I whirled around, my sundress swirling in a wake to catch up with me. Glancing over my shoulder for a final time at the woman, I scoffed as I walked out.

"How pathetic. That's stupid."

* * *

><p>It was a beautiful sunny day, but that did little to improve upon my mood. I sat on the stone bench, practically sulking in my dark demeanor. In front of me, a grassy yard opened up into a secluded, circular park stationed near the center of a bustling town. Large spaces between ancient oak trees provided picnics and lounge spaces, along with new, crisp sidewalks and colorful blossom clusters dotted here and there. It was one of the few places left that hadn't been wounded or shown any evidence of the recent scub coral explosions. Even the birds were merrily chirping high in the branches.<p>

I would rather have been doing almost anything else, like dancing or singing or eating some delicious sweets, but here I was doing what any other girl would usually wish to do every weekend. Whatever.

_"I want you to take a day off, Anemone,"_ Dewey had said to me firmly. _"You've been rather occupied recently. I think some time to yourself would do you good."_

I remember my fingers tightening longingly into fists, watching his cool face across the screen, hundreds of miles away. And simple as that, a private jet had been arranged and I was flown over to this god forsaken speck of civilization with its futile hopes of never being touched by the corals. At least they had given me some decent time to change.

At first, I'll admit, I did have some fun. Walking along in sparkling flats, a cream and white skirt and yellow sleeveless blouse, I pulled my hair up securely and allowed the sunshine to bathe me all it wanted. I ventured into little shops filled with trinkets, cards, carved figurines, and old grandfather clocks. Passing a bakery, I treated myself to a jelly filled pastry, the icing melting against the warmth of my fingers. A round-faced young man had approached a while ago and offered to buy me an iced tea. In return, I had simply smiled and told him better luck to go sucking along for something more at his level, such as a tethered goat.

Yeah, it was fun at first.

But now I was simply bored. I couldn't even have taken Gulliver with me; I would have had to carry him the entire time. The lazy snoot never was one for walks. So, once again, I was left sitting idle on a stiff, stone bench, face nestled in my hands, elbows on knees, scowling at the world passing by.

Eventually, some bright exclamation become audible. Young and lighthearted, the voices belonged to a group of children. Curious, I perked up a little and looked around. My eyes found them, clustered around the base of a tree. A few were squatting down, while the others stood on their tip toes to look over their friends. It was a group of boys and girls, the older ones trying to ease the impatient youngsters from stepping in front of everyone.

With nothing better to do, I decided to investigate. Standing up, I made my way slowly on over to the kids, trying to see between their legs what was interesting them so.

When I eventually reached them, they were so occupied that no one noticed my approach. I had to tap one of the older kids on the shoulder to get their attention.

"What are you looking at?" I asked tersely.

Although the curly-haired boy was startled, he seemed quite excited to tell me about the entire thing. He looked to be about 11 years old.

"It's a baby bird! But we don't know what to do with it-"

"Hey, don't touch it Landyn!" A girl's voice interrupted him, and I looked down just in time to see a girl slap away the hand of a toddler reaching out. The little boy rubbed his wrist, scowling at the girl.

"I'm just trying to help."

"If you touch it, then none of the other birds will help it. That's what my mommy always tells me."

The oldest boy looked back at me, and I was surprised to see some sadness reflecting in his eyes.

"We were trying to scare it away, but we don't think it can fly. And it won't leave her, even though she's already dead."

"She?" I cocked my head. The boy just shook his head, gesturing with a wave that I should look myself.

I was tall enough to look over the kids, but with me being such a big newcomer compared to everyone else, the little ones almost scattered as I stepped forward. I finally came to see what all the fuss was about.

Curled up in a tiny little ball of gray feathers and fluff sat the tiniest chick I'd ever seen. It's legs (I'm assuming it had some) were tucked neatly underneath it's belly, and the miniature beak and head were nestled tightly against the body laying beside it.

In a grotesquely stiff position next to the chick was an obviously dead parent. Some feathers had been strewn about in the area. I assumed the bird had either fallen from her perch or had succumbed to injuries by a hunting cat. Whatever the reason, she had long been motionless, but the little chick had relentlessly sat next to her, too frightened to move anywhere else but hide its face from the world within the feathers of the only thing it knew.

Oddly enough, the event seemed familiar...and I was reminded annoyingly of that superficial women on the military plane, writing a letter as if it was a duty assigned for her to do. I recalled how pathetic it was, being reliable on something you couldn't call upon, couldn't touch.

It disgusted me. Did I have a mother to call for? Did I have something to pull strength from?

I was just like this wretched baby bird, abandoned and alone with nothing surrounding me but memories and hopes...

And then I was suddenly furious. Clenching my fingers, I cursed myself for even bringing up such thoughts. The motion brought a gentle pulse in my temples, the foreboding reaction of a splitting headache to come later on. How could I compare myself to this animal? I had long ago realized that it was up to me. Colonel Dewey had shown me that, stood me on my own two feet and had encouraged me to walk forward by my own desires. He had given me new strength and hope and the chance to prove that I was stronger than any woman deriving support from an invisible source.

"What should we do with it?" one of the kids asked again, shattering the silent shell that had surrounded me. When no answer came, I spoke up.

"Get rid of it. It won't survive anyway."

The children reacted to that, gasping in astonishment.

"We can't do that. That's mean!"

"Yeah, we should try _something_..."

"Can I take it home with me, sis? I promise I'll take good care of it everyday."

I snorted, tossing a lock of pink hair aside that had lost its hold from the tie and swept across my face. The pressure behind my eyes had grown to a steady throbbing now, and the kids' whining wasn't helping at all. I knew how to shut them up.

"Honestly, the mother is dead, and the chick has nothing else for it to turn to. It can only rely on itself, and as it is, it's completely worthless and would just die anyway. Better to get rid of the thing than waste the time and energy to try and save it."

Before any of the surrounding children were able to anticipate what I planned to do, I had already stepped forward in front of them. Without hesitation, I roughly nudged the dead mother aside with my toe and, lifting my right foot up high directly above the little chick, stamped downward with all my might.

I received a response exactly as I had envisioned. The youngsters screamed, many covering their eyes with their hands. In tears and shrieks, the tiniest of children abruptly got to their feet and dashed away, calling for parents to come and hold them. The older siblings and friends followed, many having tears in their own eyes. The older boy that I had spoken to paused in his dash and must have given me a look that could have frozen rain in midair with its hatred, but I never did see it. I was staring at my foot, the bird having disappeared completely underneath.

I twisted my foot for good measure. Such a pity...I had been given these shoes just last week.

* * *

><p>The hanger never was my favorite place to be. It was filled with noises and smells and lighting that only made my head ache. But I went there anyway. I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to apologize.<p>

"I'm so sorry," I whimpered to it.

My partner, theEND, was indeed in quite a pitiful state. With the body being suspended at the forearms by thick, braided cables, its entire torso was held up to allow deep gashes and dents into plain sight, many across the chest and impaling towards the cockpit. Its legs twisted grotesquely inwards, and the blades that once commanded the trapar waves lay across the gigantic cement floor, snapped in several places.

It resembled a skyfish ripped up by propellers, or a torn blanket curtly thrown up to dry.

I stood at its feet, looking up in horrified wonder. All around were tables and counters set up as tiny work stations, filled with tools, pieces of scrap metal, glass measuring devices, and the occasional abandoned coffee mug. The construction staff were currently absent, perhaps on a break, and I was left alone amongst the messy repair process. One table stood right before me, the only obstacle between theEND and I, and I glanced at the cursory notes scribbled on sheets, the desperate attempts to configure how to salvage parts.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again, my eyes dropping towards my shoes, intensely studying them to avoid looking up again. I knew nothing about mechanics. I only flew by instinct, by the thrill guiding me. Once in the cockpit, I could do anything just by trying, but out here...out here...

I became distracted when a gentle pulsing emerged between my temples. Distraught, I brought my fingers up to press against the bridge of my nose, biting my lip softly.

_I'm just like that wretched bird,_ I thought angrily. _I'm dependent on something else. My partner is disabled, and I can't do anything...not for theEND, not for Dewey, and not even for myself..._

The throbbing increased, and I tasted blood on my lips.

_My head...not again..._

"Anemone? What are you doing out here alone?"

My eyes snapped open. That voice...of all the times for him to appear. No, not the Colonel, the other one that always was present at the worst of moments.

Whipping around, my hair fanning behind me in a violent fashion, my gaze came to rest upon no one else but Lieutenant Dominic Sorel.

"Nothing of your concern," I snapped, hands clenching.

Dominic stood there, that eternal concern shining in his gray eyes. It disgusted me, seeing him wrestle within himself over worry and anxiety. Did I appear that helpless, so fragile that I could shatter at any moment, break at any breath of wind?

This young man, he'd been seeming to materialize when I was in my foulest of moods recently. As Dewey's work had occupied him more, taking him away across the world, he had apparently been unable to take me with him. Of course, it made sense; I was the pilot of theEND. I couldn't exactly take my dance partner wherever I pleased.

So this lap dog had been ordered to watch over me. It was infuriating. If this military caretaker hadn't been assigned, Dewey himself would _had _to have been here instead! I just knew it!

And then my anger snapped, because when I exited my boiling thoughts I noticed that he was smiling at me.

"Well, I'm just glad to see you looking much better. That day off away from everyone the Colonel suggested must have-"

"Shut-up!" I shrieked at him. He appeared shocked, and how dare he? Why didn't he get it?

"Maybe that's not what I really want!" I stomped my foot on the ground, balling my hands into fists at my ears in a tantrum. "If I'm so special to Dewey, why doesn't he ever come back to see me?"

The eternal concern returned.

"Anemone..."

I was so angry, I felt my whole body tingle and tremble. The ache in my head began to spread, but my shouting was more than enough to cover up the ringing in my ears. Dominic stood there taking my verbal assault, his face showing no defensive reaction whatsoever. If anything, all I saw was pity reflecting back at me in those eyes, and that infuriated me all the more. I pointed a vicious finger at him.

"It's because of you, isn't it?" I hissed. "Because you're here, Dewey doesn't have a reason to come back to me! You're the one keeping him away! God, I hate you! _I hate you!_"

I would have continued spitting profanity and curses at him, if only my head hadn't exploded. The head ache spontaneously burst into an utterly terrible, piercing pain. My scream escalated octaves to exit as shouts of complete torture. It felt like a bullet had entered my skull right between my eyes, and shards of glass impaled around my ears and back towards my crown. I instantly felt my hands cover my eyes to cradle my face, failing to find the gaping wounds I was so sure I had. The next instant, a duller pain shot though my knees as I collapsed upon them, my entire weight crashing to the cement ground.

"Anemone!" His yell was hardly audible to me, but I recall firm hands gripping my shoulders, trying to pull me up, to support me-

No! No, I wouldn't allow this. I wasn't going to be dependent, I wasn't going to be helpless. Not this time!

In a flurry, I shoved him back. Getting to my feet, I swung my entire body, leading with my elbow. Although I couldn't see, my aim was true. It struck something hard, and I heard him tumble to the ground.

My hands instantly went to my face again. Peering through my fingers, I saw Dominic on his hands and knees, one hand clasped to his jaw. But my vision disappeared in an instant as a new surge of pain swept over me. This time, teeth raked my skull, slicing flesh and bone alike, racing down my neck and into my back. Fangs bit deep everywhere they touched, and everywhere my fingers went... there was nothing...

I was blinded by the pain, and in my desperate attempt to stay standing, I felt myself stumble into the table that had been in front of me. I heard glass shatter as it hit the ground, and I soon found myself down with it. The glass pricked and dusted my skin, my whole body writhing in agony as the claws ripped again and again.

_Make it stop...make it stop..._

Once again, I suddenly felt strong hands press down upon me, trying to control my convulsing body. Fingers put pressure against my neck, holding my head still. And then I became afraid, terrified of what was to come.

_No! Not that! I don't want that! _

My eyes were pinched shut in an attempt to escape. My fingers grazed dust and debris, swiping against a large glass shard. My hand instantly closed around it, the sharp edges cutting into skin, and leaned upward in a flash. With all my might, I slammed the shard against the force holding me down, feeling it bite deep into flesh.

For a split second, everything stopped. And then my chin was pinched fiercely between a set of fingers, and everything froze as the needle penetrated my throat.

All of my air was instantly cut off. I imagined invisible clasps closing around my throat, pinching it closed, crushing my windpipe between their force. I tried to breath in, to get the oxygen I so desperately needed, but I couldn't no matter how hard I tried. My entire body was frozen, petrified in shock and terror.

But then, against all the darkness, the pain, and the cold that shrouded me, I felt a warmth emerge at the nape of my neck. A pinpoint in size at first, it intensified and spread like a liquid blanket. It spread up my skull, encasing the invisible wounds and sealing them shut. It doused the fires from behind my eyes, and it spread down my back, releasing every tension I previously had. The clasps around my throat retreated, and I inhaled deeply, feeling my chest ache as it expanded heavily.

Everything was gone, and I noticed that my strength had left me, leaving me limp in the arm of someone else.

Forcing my eyes to crack open, the blurred visioned focused to Dominic holding me up as best he could with one arm. The other hand, his left hand, was up at his right shoulder, where a gruesome glass shard festered and shone underneath the clavicle. Hot blood drained from the wound, staining his once perfectly clean gloves, soaking through his coat. It dripped from the glass edge, flecking my cheeks with spots of crimson.

I watched his face as he swallowed, felt his body shift with his breath. And as the warmth spread from my skull down my spine, my eyes rolled to see the empty medication vial, the needle broken off as it had been harshly thrown aside once out of use. Staring at it, my vision blurred again, but not because of physical pain. I didn't try to move nor stop the reaction I had this time. Instead, I just lay there, pitiful, weak and pathetic as the tears fell from my eyes, dripping off my nose to splash unheard to the ground.

"Anemone," I heard him whisper with much effort, every once of regret and sorrow making the statement heavier than lead. "I'm so sorry..."

* * *

><p>I can't recall anything after that, only remembering waking up enveloped by warm cloth. Shifting slowly, nothing remained of my previous pain. It was as if nothing had ever occurred, and soon my vision cleared enough of sleep to discern where I was.<p>

I was back in my quarters, and I had been placed on my bed. The familiar, high ceilings stood way above me, and the large windows allowed the soft white rays to stream through from the sunshine. Looking up, I saw the mirror that had been placed above me since my first evening at this place. Pulling the sheets aside, I found that my hand, the one that had grasped the glass shard from before, had been carefully bandaged with delicate attention.

How long had I been asleep? Many hours, it seemed...

Swinging my legs to the side, I sat on the edge of the mattress, staring at my bare feet extending seemingly so far away from me. I wasn't even wearing my favorite sundress anymore. I wore a plain blue gown, the silk fabric smooth and cool against my shoulders.

I sat and wished I could recall who had taken me here. I wished I could have seen who had done everything for me, bandaged me and dressed me, since I was obviously unable to do anything myself.

My fingers tightened on the sheets, gripping so hard my forearms trembled.

_I'm worthless..._

I suddenly became aware of something different in the room. A side table had been added, placed at the foot of my bed. Upon it sat a large wicker basket, and inside it were small parcels wrapped in brilliantly colored transparent plastic. Sticking out of the side, the white parchment very visible against the colors surrounding it, was an envelope.

I felt myself breathe in.

In a dash, I had crawled across the bed to the end, peering into the basket with child-like anticipation. Within the parcels were all sorts of goodies: baked breads, muffins, iced pastries, cake, assorted chocolates, and in the center a glass jar filled with sparkling strawberry jam. With delight, I grasped the envelope and eagerly shred it open.

_It's from Dewey! I know it is! He wanted to let me know he's concerned about me, probably announcing he's on his way to visit right now! _

I tore open the letter, completely ignoring the brief writing inside to look at the signature. I wanted to see his name, to soak in the graceful loops and swirls of his grandeur penmanship.

But I wasn't to be rewarded. The letter began to shake in my hands, and I realized it was my own anger.

_Dominic Sorel_

I crumpled up the letter hastily, throwing it away from me as if it was a rotten egg. Pulling my knees up close, I tucked my head in and rocked back and forth gently, feeling utterly miserable. Dewey...he wasn't coming after all...

After a minute or so, I felt a cold nudge against my leg. Peering over my arm, Gulliver had approached me. I instantly felt terrible; I hadn't even noticed him!

"I'm sorry I missed you Gulliver," I reached out to pet him, but stopped when I saw the crumbled letter hanging from his teeth.

"But Gulliver, why do you...?" He just stared at me with patience and persistence that could wear down a mountain. Frowning, I practically ripped the letter from his mouth. "Fine. You win."

Carefully pulling the letter open, I smoothed it against my legs and held it up to read. The words were hand written, and although the writing was rather plain in comparison to Dewey's, it still was quite legible and pleasant to look at.

"_My regrets for your recent feelings. I'm sorry you are unable to visit the Colonel yourself. But I assure you, he asks of your well being each time a report is turned in. You are always in his thoughts. _

_I am hoping some favorite sweets are able to bring in some needed cheer. Repairs on theEND are currently on schedule, and you will be able to fly again soon. In the meantime, please rest and recover. When all things are complete, we will be needing you again. _

_Dream well, Anemone._

_Sincerely,_

_Dominic Sorel"_

Setting the letter down, I glanced over to Gulliver, who appeared like he had yet to move since I took the paper from him.

Leaning towards the basket, I reached in to pull the glass jar out. Studying it a little bit, I unscrewed the top and scooped out a glob on an unbandaged finger. Popping the sample into my mouth, the sweetness and fruit swirled in both taste and texture in a delectable way.

I remembered mentioning only once that strawberry was my favorite. I can't even remember when or why I said it.

"Well, he finally did something right for once."

And with that, I gently set the maimed letter next to the basket and proceeded to stick my entire hand palm-deep into the jar. Gulliver continued to watch me, his eyes glinting with a peculiar smugness as if satisfied with some sort of secret accomplishment.

End


End file.
